


Sublime

by ZaffreV



Category: Undertale
Genre: Other, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6926083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaffreV/pseuds/ZaffreV
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The future is brighter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sublime

The year is 202X, and Humanity has been merged with Monsterkind for the past 12 years. Isolated incidents here and there, with outbreaks of speciesism in theocratic societies; but nothing overt in more developed countries. The radio in the fogged out room is blaring ancient by Frisk's standards Sublime albums, at the stocky skeleton's request. A glass implement passed from Frisk's hands to Sans' hands, the skeleton pressing the implement into an eye socket and somehow still managing to inhale from the rather large bong.

"Dude. Sans." Frisk's voice was low as their hand pressed to the side of their face, "Santeria" buzzing out of the ancient speakers. "What if... Man, listen, what if the Temmies were like, God or something?" The question was left open ended; trailing off as Frisk collapsed further into the house in a fit of giggles.

"Frisk, man..." Sans waved a literally bony hand, as if trying to scatter the smoke that was currently exuding from every orifice in his face. "You are REALLY harshing my mellow with all of that... Theological nonsense."

Frisk wiped tears out of their eyes from the giggles, before taking the bong back from Sans, lighting the bowl again before inhaling slow; their thumb over the carb to build up a thick, milky gray chamber of smoke. Their thumb slid off the hole, and they ripped hard, clearing the chamber in one go before exhaling slow and slumping their head against the couch, a wide, shit-eating grin on their face. "You make a pretty good point... Besides, I don't think anyone would be willing to throw me a bone on that idea, huh?" 

Sans exhaled softly in mild disappointment as Frisk collapsed into giggles again, gently prying the glass paraphrenalia from the teen's hands. "That... Was literally the worst, Frisk. Did you make that joke just cause I'm here?" He inhaled slow from the bong, through the eye socket again before the smoke collided with the back of his skull, rolling from his "face" in slow, roiling curls. "Man, I am not high enough for this."

Frisk quit giggling for a moment, still trying to brush the tears out of their lashes before cocking their head to the side. "Not high eno... Man, you don't even have lungs. How... Are you doing that?"

Sans blinked for a moment before staring at the bong, tilting his head slowly. "...Duuuuuuude."

Frisk nodded in demure agreement, before they also spoke up. "Duuuuuuuuude."

Sublime continued to play in the cheap apartment, with the scent of pot permeating the air, and the odd pair didn't have a care in the world. In the moment? Life was still good.


End file.
